


Say Something, They Don't Love You Like I Love You

by Eletoile



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eletoile/pseuds/Eletoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holly makes the decision to leave Gail following Gail's many attempts to leave her. </p><p>Written to fill a prompt on Tumblr in which Holly leaves Gail.  </p><p>I own nothing but the mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Say Something - Holly

_And I will swallow my pride._

_You're the one that I love_

_And I'm saying goodbye._

_Say something, I'm giving up on you._

_I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you._

I had felt her straying from me for a while now. She had only managed short, blunt answers to every text message. Non-committal replies when asked if she wanted to do something with me. We had been a couple for several blissful months now. I had always known she was in over her head with me. Hell, maybe I was in over my head, too. I had convinced myself that nobody should fall so hard, that nothing should feel so right. Why shouldn't I convince myself of such things—she certainly had? She had been spending all of her evenings at the Penny, most likely trying to erase the mistake I was sure she thought she had made in choosing me—in letting me in. Was I her mistake? I wasn't sure, but I sure as hell hoped not. After months of dealing with her "cat of the tree antics" and chasing her to what felt like the ends of the Earth to keep her in my life we had these past several amazing months with no trouble. I began to realize I was silly to believe things could be so perfect. I thought she had put the running behind her. I had always whole-heartedly believed that people had the capacity to change if they wanted something enough. How could I allow optimism to overrule logic? After all, logic was my shield, wasn't it? It had kept me safe my entire life. Yet here I was sitting in my cold car falling apart in the realization that my optimism may have been sorely misplaced. The truth of the matter is, she warned me. Repeatedly. She warned me over and over again that she was a runner—that she couldn't stay pinned down. Yet I insisted on confining our love in a small basket of a hot air balloon, which I sent steadfastly to the sky. I couldn't help thinking how beautiful it was up there. Everyday with her like a gorgeous warm orange sunset with flashes of pink, orange and red as seen from six hundred meters into the sky. Yet as gorgeous as it was up there—as simple and serene—I knew she was trapped in that tiny basket with me, six hundred meters in the air, with no escape. Looking back on it, I was surprised she lasted this long.

Things had never been easy between the two of us—she would always be difficult. However, that was one of the things I loved most about her. Life with Gail would never be boring. No matter how difficult, life with Gail would never be ugly, either. She brought a beauty into my life I wasn't aware was missing. When I was with her the colors of the world seemed to explode around me—like I was living in a black and white world that she brought color to. The trees were greener, the sky bluer. And her eyes, god her eyes. I knew I couldn't look into those eyes when I set my plan into motion. Those eyes were my anchors to this world, my anchor to her. If I looked into them I would be looking into her. Her eyes were also so closed to everyone else, but I could read them like an open book. I could always see her vulnerability and I made damn sure I was never the cause of heightened vulnerability within her. When her eyes showed she was scared, I held her. When her eyes darkened with lust, I was there. God, I was there. And those were the best moments of my life. Recently her eyes had been ice. The book was closed to me. She was closed to me. I wasn't sure how to fix it, but I had to try something. I had to try something that would inevitably shatter me more than it would shatter her. We had tried her leaving and me begging her to return countless times. The separation was always her choice and she always knew she could end it at the utterance of three words "I miss you" or "I love you" or a combination of the two statements. I always came back, without second thought. I always had—because without her I felt like I was half a person and she was the only thing that could make me whole. Plato wrote in his Symposium that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus feared the power of humans and split them into two distinct entities, condemning them to spend their lives searching for their other halves. Too bad Plato didn't give a guidebook regarding what to do when you found your other half and life and irrational emotions placed a barrier the size of the Great Wall of China between the two of us. I was pretty certain irrational emotions had far more wrath than Zeus ever had. Although perhaps Zeus had the right of it, feasibly two people with a bond like I felt I had with Gail should be feared. With her by my side I felt like I could take on any obstacle thrown at me with ease. I felt that we could scale Mount Everest in bikinis—that humans could fly—and other totally foolish thoughts. The absurdity of these illogical contemplations never bothered me because I felt that our love defied logic. I should have known that nothing could defy logic. Somewhere in my mind I was confident that this fact never escaped me. Nonetheless, this part of my mind was murky when I was with her. The colors of the world presented to me through her presence dimmed my logical brain into oblivion. While this was wonderful at the time, it was painful now with the realization I was losing her again and that, this time, I was going to have to be the one to leave her.

I knew this is exactly what I needed to do and it absolutely shattered my metaphorical heart. She needed to experience time without me, without the knowledge that she could come running back with her three or six words and all would be forgiven. She needed to feel what it was like to be without me when it wasn't her decision. Perhaps in my absence she would miss me enough to stop her silly running games. At least, that was my sincerest hope. Nevertheless, there was a huge risk in this plan. What if I did this and she was so hurt and she felt so abandoned that she never returned? I knew one fact for sure; Gail was terrified of being abandoned. She didn't mind abandoning people, yet, she could not handle when others made the choice to abandon her. I unquestionably did not want my name to end up on Gail's long list of people who have abandoned her or otherwise hurt her. What could I do? We couldn't continue on this trajectory, we were undoubtedly headed towards inescapable disaster. Perhaps my plan would expedite this, I did not know. The ambiguity befuddled my scientist mind. However, in this, my mind was set. I would leave her and I would hope beyond hope, like hell that she would return to me. I had never been more terrified in my entire life. Neither had I ever been filled with more dread for what I was about to do.

I cranked over the engine and headed towards her place. I texted Chris to ascertain her whereabouts and he told me she was home after a short night at the Penny. The drive was unbearable; I just wanted to get this awful task out of the way. The thought of seeing the hurt in her gorgeous eyes and those beautiful lips turn downwards into a frown nearly broke me. It was becoming hard to see the road with the wash of tears pooling in my eyes and slipping down the planes of my face. I pulled in the drive and entered her place and her room in a blur. She was sitting on her bed disheveled and clearly quite surprised to see me standing in the threshold to her bedroom. I could not bring myself to enter her bedroom. I could not look into her eyes; I could not come closer to her. She was a gravitational force I could not ignore. If I stepped further into her room, further into her, if I looked into those eyes I would falter. So I stayed, awkwardly, in that doorway.

"Holly, what are you doing here?" she said, irritability lacing her voice.

"If I have done something recently to offend you, I am sorry." I begin hesitantly. "Your actions recently have lead me to the realization that something I thought was so right is clearly wrong. We cannot manage to stay together for longer than a few months without you running away from me. If I am not worth staying for, let me make this easy for you, I'll leave and remove the source of your confusion. You won't have to leave the tree, Gail, if the tree is gone. I can't just be your comfort zone, I deserve more than that. I love that you ran to me in times of trouble and every second we spent together was…was absolute bliss for me. It is clear to me, however, that this was not the case for you. I can no longer be the pathetic girl that chases you when you try to leave me every five minutes. I'm worth more than that. You're worth more than that. If you can't stay with me then, clearly, I'm not the one for you. I'm sorry if you ever thought I was."

I notice that Gail kept trying to speak. Yet I rambled through it. An incredibly large part of me wished she would rush to me and shut me up in the way I had become accustomed to being shut up by her—a fierce kiss. She didn't this time, however, she just sat on her bed looking thoroughly broken. I did this to her. I did this. The guilt was eating through me so I did the only thing I knew how to do…I turned and walked away. After all, she taught me how.

I hurry back through the house as I hear her door slam loudly. Even disheveled she was beautiful. I just wanted to turn back the clock and stand in the threshold of her bedroom and tell her how goddamn beautiful she is. Instead, I abandoned her. I fucking abandoned her. How could I ever think this was a wise idea? I rarely used alcohol to make my troubles go away but if I ever needed wine it was this moment. I had a couple of good bottles at home and I made my way back there.

I enter my flat and throw down my purse and coat, kicking off my shoes without a single effort to place my belongings in the proper locations. I drag myself slowly to the kitchen, uncork the wine, and pour half the bottle into my balloon wine glass—silently thanking whomever it was that decided making wine glasses this large was a good idea. I down the glass in record time and quickly pour the other half of the bottle. As I am downing the second half of the bottle my phone beeps indicating that I have received a text message. I know exactly who it will be from and I know that I should not look at my phone. Clearly I am a masochist because I look at the phone despite knowing I shouldn't.

"I hope you know you're a fucking coward."

Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was the emotional stress of the day but a text that generally would have hurt my feelings in this situation just thoroughly pisses me off. Who is she to call me a coward? She has left me a handful of times and she has the audacity to call me a coward? I know I can't reply to this message or I will say something I absolutely regret. I slam my phone down on the counter much harder than I intended. I was quite thankful that I did not break my phone in my rage. I lazily put the wine glass in the sink, not bothering to wash it. I had definitely decided an entire bottle of wine to myself was enough for the evening. It was making me sleepy and I was thankful that it seemed to be keeping the thoughts of Gail at bay. I kept the thoughts out of my mind until I climbed into my incredibly cold and incredibly empty bed. It felt like a wasteland without Gail in it. I lay there exhausted but unable to fall asleep because she's not in my arms. I am stricken by a great sadness at the possibility that she may never be in my arms again. That her side of the bed will never be filled with the effervescent presence that is her again. I let myself fall apart. Great sobs wrack my entire body and I feel as if I am going to split apart at the seams any second now. I am crying with so much force that I have given myself a raging headache. There isn't an ounce of my physical body or my metaphorical soul that isn't absolutely aching right now and yearning for the beautiful girl that belongs next to me.

Without realizing it I fall into a fitful and lonely sleep. I awake to the sunshine streaming through the shades in my room. Something is wrong. The sun was far too bright for such a dim world, I realize. A ray cast itself over the empty side of my bed where Gail belonged. I want to fall apart again, knowing I cannot. I have to go through the motions of the day. Perhaps work would keep my troubled thoughts locked away for a while. I would give anything for a break from such plagued reminders.

Work that day and for the next six weeks was relatively uneventful but there was enough to keep me busy. I tried to stay late at the morgue to exhaust myself so that my lonely evenings were short. I hadn't seen or heard from Gail since the text message the night of the incident. Her smile and eyes were burned into my memory but, with sadness, the images were fading. They had begun to seem blurry in her long absence. On one hand I was relieved that the devastation I had felt was slowly but surely starting to ease. On the other hand, I didn't want the image of her to fade; I wanted to cling to it, to cling to the hope that she would miss me enough to return. This is what my life had become—a constant limbo of "what ifs?" and "if only I had done this differently". I realized I deserved every gram of hurt and pain I felt because I had caused her to feel the same.

I was hunched over my desk when I heard a familiar knock on the door. The knock was more tentative and less brazen than usual but it was definitely Gail's knock. I spin around in my chair at a dizzyingly quick speed and see her in the doorway to my lab. With a sharp intake of breath I await her melodic voice.

"Uh," she stammers out "Swarek needs this analyzed" she walks the sample over and brusquely shoves it into my hand.

I make the mistake of looking into her eyes and I see all the hurt I had been trying to avoid seeing on the night I made my epic mistake. Even with those pained eyes and the overall look of defeat and exhaustion she exudes I know she has never been more beautiful to me than she is in this moment. I realize just how much six weeks without seeing that beautiful face and that perfectly composed body has affected me. I want to shout my apologies from the rooftops and get on my knees and beg and grovel for her forgiveness and tell her how much I love and miss her. I'm not brave enough. Instead I set the sample down on the table and look up at her.

"Gail…"

"I'll be back for the results later" she brushes me off and storms back out of the lab.

I knew at that moment how much I had crushed her. I could tell that the level I had hurt her was something nobody had ever surpassed. I was well aware that on that long list of people who have abandoned or otherwise hurt her that I was at the very top. I am about to fall to pieces again right there but instead I run off to the restroom to be alone. The dull ache for her I had been feeling the last five weeks after the initial shock of my departure has now increased one hundred fold. Seeing her again destroyed every ounce of reserve I had. I'm a good person, how could I inflict so much pain on the person I love the most? Perhaps she was correct; perchance I was being a coward. If only I had faced the problem of her hot and cold issues head on I wouldn't be in this pain and neither would she. I had never in my life felt like an idiot, I always prized my intelligence over all other things. In that moment, I never felt more stupid. I never felt like my intelligence had abandoned me—until now. I spent five minutes trying to pull myself back together enough to go run the sample she had brought. I didn't want to add gross incompetence to the list of my failures, as well.

I diligently run the samples and when she hasn't returned to retrieve them I continue with the rest of my pile of work knowing that she'll come when she needs to. A short while later I hear her soft knock again. This time she walks into the lab immediately.

"The results?" she says quickly.

"Oh r-right." I curse myself for sounding so damn uncertain.

I pull the paper out of the stack and push my arm out towards her to hand it to her. She rips it out of my hand quickly and looks at the results. She doesn't ask me for their meaning because she knows a lot about lab result—I taught her well. She turns and walks towards the door to the lab mumbling "I'll get these to Swarek right away." I curse myself that she is about to leave without a single protest from me when she turns around just before leaving the lab.

"Why did you do it, Holly?"

I can hear the hurt in the way she says my name. Nobody says my name the way Gail does.

"Y-you were about to leave me again, Gail. I know the signs. I've seen them enough."

I am surprised by the steadiness and the conviction in my own voice because my mind was more akin to a train wreck.

"So your answer was to just give up and leave me for good?" she asked incredulously.

"No, not for good. Never for good. I thought maybe if I left before you had the chance you would realize I couldn't keep playing these games with you. I know I handled this immaturely, but at the time it seemed like the best course of action. I thought perhaps you'd realize how much you missed me if you thought that you couldn't run back with a few uttered words and have all be forgiven. It was stupid. I was stupid. It was the hardest thing I've ever done and the thing I regret the most, " I painfully admit.

"You're right. You were incredibly stupid" is all she says as she exits my lab, and probably my life, again.

That is all I can handle. I have to get out of here. I pack up my belongings and close out the lab for the day. Amazingly, I make it home safely. I pull my balloon wine glass out of the cupboard and drown myself in another half bottle of wine. I am a full bottle of wine in when I hear the soft knock at my door. I know it's Gail's knock but I assume it's just an optimistic figment of my imagination. After all, why the hell would she come to my place? She thinks I am a goddamn idiot. Which, of course, in this case she is one hundred percent correct. I slowly stumble over to my door and open it clumsily. There she is, my vision. All the beauty in the world rolled up into one person. All the wine is making her glow as if the moonlight is embodied in her pale white skin. Her eyes are dark. Her tongue runs nervously over her bottom lip before she lightly bites at her lip. I realize I'm staring when I hear her soft voice.

"Are you planning on inviting me in or do you plan to leave me out here for the rest of the evening while you stare at me like I'm dessert?"

I can't help but laugh at her Gail-ness. I've missed her wit.

"Yes, please come…"

She walks through the doorway and pulls me to her by my belt loop and crashes her lips into mine hard. My head is spinning between the mixture of her and the wine. I breathe in the intoxicating smell of her that I've missed so much and she forces her tongue into my mouth. She kisses me with all the passion of six agonizingly long missed weeks. She breaks the kiss just as abruptly as she began it.

"You may be a fucking idiot, Holly, but you're my idiot. And maybe I'm an idiot, too. Maybe our immature reactions to such situations are what draw us to one another. I don't know. I don't know much of anything right now except that I can't wake up another morning without you. I fucking hate it. I can't wake up another morning trying to convince myself that I hate you because I don't. I love you so goddamn much. If you wanted me to realize how shitty my life would be without you, you get a gold star."

"I didn't want to make you miserable."

"Yes you did," she said angrily. "Yes you did," she whispers out softly. "And I deserved it. I deserved it. I had no right to leave you a repeatedly. That's where I was an idiot, Holly. You do deserve better and I am going to be better because I can't wake up another morning without you. Do you hear me? Never again."

"I...I hear you."

"Now, you're going to take me to bed. And we're not leaving it until the weekend is over. I have six weeks to make up for" she winks at me and walks tantalizingly slow towards the bedroom with a gorgeous sway to her delectable hips.

There it is again, the explosion of color, the sense that everything is right and in balance, the feeling that I am never going to be such a bloody idiot again. Exceeding everything else, though, that overwhelming feeling of intense love and, of course, lust. I need to shut my brain off this instant because the most beautiful girl in the world is headed towards my bed, ready to forgive my folly and I had best not keep her waiting, lest she changes her mind.

_I'll be the one if you want me to._

_Anywhere, I would have followed you._


	2. They Don't Love You Like I Love You - Gail

_Pack up_   
_I'm straight_   
_Enough_   
_Oh, say say say_   
_Oh, say say say_

 

I can feel a rift, a separation I can't explain. How can someone know so much about me and yet nothing at all? She knew every benign detail; after all, we had talked for hours upon hours in all of our time together. Yet did she really know me? Did I ever really give her a chance? No. Her beautiful mind wanted to know everything. She had smashed so many carefully constructed walls that I couldn't allow her to breach the final frontier—the deepest and darkest parts of me. The vulnerabilities, the insecurities and the past I had managed to keep well hidden for years. By well hidden I meant to myself. Completely. These vulnerabilities were the reason I wore the mask everyday. Yet when we were alone and that mask fell off I was forced to face the reality that I was broken. Sure, Holly was a bandage but was she super glue? Was she permanent? How could she be when I wouldn't let her see the broken parts of me? Instead I drifted alone. I swam in her eyes, I marveled at her mind and I gawked at her body. She showed me every piece of herself and I couldn't manage to reciprocate. The cracks she was leaving in my armor were terrifying. I had experienced terror in my job before, of course, but this was different. This I couldn't handle. This was me paling in the face of perfection. She was perfect, no matter how much she argued that perfection couldn't exist in this world—that it was a scientific conundrum. Her logical mind would find the minutest flaws within herself and claim that they allowed her to escape perfection. I knew better—every inch of her body and mind was the epitome of the human experience of perfection. It absolutely baffled me that she could not see this and I oftentimes wanted to loan her my eyes so she could see herself through a new lens—one that was not logical—one that could see perfection. That's just it, wasn't it? The problem. I did not deserve to be within one hundred feet of perfection. I did not deserve to look at perfection. Yet there she was with open arms waiting for me to finally decide to stay in that tree with her. Meanwhile, here I was, imperfect and scarred almost beyond recognition, ready to leap out of that tree once again. She did not deserve this treatment and I certainly did not deserve her.

If only my weakness for her had not dragged me back before. I had escaped this tree a few times prior, of course. I was frail. I did something to protect her from me and every single time I ran back because I was hollow without her. Plagued by her scent, by memories of every love making session and every kiss from the tiniest peck to the deepest knee-weakening affair. Yet she denied her perfection. She was the only thing I recognized most days—the only thing familiar to me. She kept the nightmares at bay. So I rushed back and I told her I missed her or I told her I loved her or maybe I told her both. Her arms would open and fold me into her. Her embrace was like a mountain in a windstorm. It sheltered me. She didn't ask questions—she never demanded an explanation for my escape. She just held me as if her life was anchored to mine. Words weren't enough for me, though. "I miss" could not fully explain the weight of her absence. When I wasn't with her it was if the most important part of me was removed. Daily actions seemed bleak. Daily conversations seemed bland. The morning was dark and the night bright. My world spun when I was with her—but it spun the opposite way without her. It wasn't as brilliant. Instead of bringing lightness—this spin brought darkness and despair. "I love you" would never suffice in showing her how deeply I had fallen. Each time she touched me an electric shiver shot through my entire body and electrified my life. A wave of emotion crashed into me like a stormy sea when I saw her face after a long day. She knew every way to comfort me when I had a rough day and she knew every way to make me laugh when a smile refused to touch my lips. Yet sometimes I felt as I was not adequate enough to make a smile touch her lips or a sparkle grace her eyes. It was nothing she did. This was a manifestation of my own insecurities. That was the problem now, of course. My insecurities were eating me alive—my vulnerabilities were keeping me from expressing my bewilderment to her. So I strayed. I fully ignored her messages and attempts to contact me or yI responded minimally. She tried. She tried so hard it broke my heart. She sent cute messages that made me smile inside—but the smile didn't touch my lips, how could it? I was too busy leaping from the tree. She called and left voicemails that made me miserable because the sound of her voice was exquisite. The inflection sounded of sadness even when she tried to keep the tone of her voice light and cheery. Every syllable drained me. Yet I persevered in my stupidity. It was easy to run scared when I knew I could run back to the warm sunrise that was her arms. For now, however, the sun was setting on her despite my best attempts to wall my vulnerabilities. I could feel the rift and it felt deeper than usual. Would my three word statements fix everything this time? Would my mountain withstand the storm? Would my sunrise break through the clouds of my own creation?

All these thoughts were swirling as I sit on my bed. I can hear footfalls down my hallway. I would know them anywhere. Of course my heart skips several beats but I know I must keep up the façade—I must save her from me. She steps into the doorway and I am once again struck by her absolute beauty, her perfect proportions, the soft wave of her hair and the slight curve of her lips. I silently chastise my brain, hoping that the running commentary regarding her perfection will cease. I flip a switch I've often used to keep others at bay—but never Holly. I feel guilty for using it.

"Holly, what are you doing here?" I can hear the irritability in my own voice and it stings.

It must feel worse for her because the hope in her eyes seems to dwindle. It looks as if she has something on her mind that she dislikes—that she is struggling with. It was clear that my tone decimated her hopes and her posture crumples a bit. I bow my head so I don't see disappointment cross her beautiful features. She takes a second before speaking.

"If I have done something recently to offend you, I am sorry." I can feel her heart breaking. I am being horrible and she is blaming herself. I can't look up or she would see my weakness. Her voice becomes firmer and she continues.

"Your actions as of late have lead me to the understanding that something I thought was so right is clearly so very wrong. We cannot manage to stay together for longer than a few months without you running away from me. If I am not worth staying for, let me make this easy for you. I'll leave and remove the source of your confusion. You won't have to leave the tree, Gail, because the tree will be gone. I can't just be your comfort zone, I deserve more than that. I love that you ran to me in times of trouble and every second we spent together was…was absolute bliss for me. It is clear to me, however, that this was not the case for you. I can no longer be the pathetic girl that chases you when you try to leave me every five minutes. I'm worth more than that. You're worth more than that. If you can't stay with me then, clearly, I'm not the one for you. I'm sorry if you ever thought I was."

I open my mouth to speak but words won't come out because I know she is right about some of what she said—she certainly did deserve far better than I could ever offer. I was better at running than I was at staying. She was so fundamentally wrong on whose fault it was, though, every single problem in the relationship was created by me. Each second of my time with her was bliss and it crushed me that she felt otherwise. At the same time, I could clearly see why she would think in such a manner. I wanted to correct her. I wanted to fold myself into her perfection—to be guarded from the turbulent world by her mountainous protection. The statement that pricked the most, though, was that she thought she wasn't the one for me. Did she honestly think this, or was this just bravado on her part? I know Holly can read me like an open book. I know she was astutely aware of exactly how I felt about her and I was certain she could see that the only person in this world for me was her. If she couldn't, if she honestly thought I felt she wasn't my perfect match, I can't imagine why she held on so long. I close my eyes and let out a small puff of air I had been holding in. I slowly look up at the doorway expecting to see her radiance but all I see is her backside walking out of my apartment for good. The realization dawns: she's given up on me.

A storm of emotions washes over me. The usual ones, of course, the feeling of fragmentation—of shattering. The crush of hurt. The devastation of loneliness. The sting of loss. At once the feeling of anger outweighed them all. I know you had not earned the right to feel angry with her. She was patient long enough, but everyone had a breaking point. Sometimes I couldn't be as put together as Holly managed. The flash of fiery anger was stronger within me than it was within her and right now I was burning with it. I grab my phone and shoot off a text to her.

"I hope you know you're a fucking coward."

For a moment I feel smugly satisfied. I have managed to express my feeling in a succinct manner. After all, she was running like a coward and I had never taken Holly for a coward. Holly was always my rock. She was unwavering and brilliant. She was steady and strong. In a million years I never imagined she would run. She wasn't weak like me. She wasn't flawed. Perhaps that was why I was so baffled. This was so unlike her. What was I to do when my anchor had dislodged from the sea floor and I was floating helplessly out to sea? She was permanent, wasn't she? Her will was unfathomable in its unwillingness to break. Wasn't it? I begin questioning everything I know. How could I call myself observant when I never saw the capability to do this within Holly? Perhaps I placed her on a pedestal because she was always so astonishing to me. The heightened position served to make her fall severer and her words harsher. They replay in my memory not in the soft sadness that she uttered them but in the hard rashness that I heard them. I cling to the anger because it is an emotion I can handle far easier than hurt. Anger I was used to. Disappointment I felt often—true hurt was rare. So rare, in fact, that I was certain I hadn't felt it until this moment. The throbbing in my temples, the weight on my chest and the scattered mess that was my brain. This was agony, I was sure, and if it was, anger was much easier. I removed my own immense fault from the equation and placed it all on Holly's shoulders. Her shoulders used to be one of my favorite parts about her. The slight downward slope that I would run my lips and tongue across. The blades that popped beautifully in and out of her back when she moved above me. They were deformed by my memory, now, and the blame I placed solely upon her. She didn't deserve this hatred but I needed it to cope. After all, that's what life would be now without her. It wouldn't be living; it would merely be coping with the hole her absence had left in my being.

Her scent faded from my room as the time passed and the evening faded into early morning. As the hours ticked away, my anger increased to the point of explosion. I knocked everything off of my nightstand in a swipe of fury. I felt a supreme satisfaction as I heard my belongings shattering. After all, they would now match me. My rage was swelling—I knew the stage I was in currently was the calm before the storm. I tried to ride the waves of this storm because I wanted the rage. I needed it. The storm never came, at least not the storm that brought the rage. Instead the anguish came and I crumbled back onto my bed as sobs wracked my entire being. This was worse. This was unfamiliar territory. How could I stop sobs and waterfalls of tears if I had never truly experienced anything like them? I was so far out of my element that I was only vaguely aware that I was still me. Perhaps Holly had been correct all along—perhaps perfection couldn't exist. Maybe she wasn't perfect—as she claimed every single time I confessed that I truly believed she was. A perfect person would never, could never, so wholly crush another human being. Only truly flawed humans, such as myself, could do such a thing. Maybe, after all, it was our joint flaws that made us so right for one another. I have to remind myself that she doesn't see how right we are for each other anymore and it is entirely my fault. How could I ever run from that smile? How did I think escaping from her beauty was the correct course? Why did I push away her sincerity? These thoughts would plague me in the long weeks to come.

I had successfully managed to avoid her for six weeks. Actually, I had effectively managed to dodge everyone —at least on a personal level. My friends made inquiries about my current emotional state, of course, but I refused to acknowledge them, much less answer. When Swarek asked me, unrelentingly, to bring something down to "Dr. Stewart" to be analyzed, I truly tried, in vain, to swap the task for something easier and less emotionally turbulent. It became clear, quickly, that this task would be mine and mine alone. The thought of seeing Holly again petrified me. Her beauty was quicksand and her mind was a vortex that drew me ever closer to her. I knew any resolve I had stored up after six weeks would crumble with one look into her eyes. As much as I claimed to blame her and hate her, the simple truth was that I was hollow without her and the lack of her love made every day dim. I begrudgingly make my way to the morgue to deliver the sample.

I knock my usual pattern lightly on the doorway to her lab. She is facing away from the door hunched over her desk. She spins around so quickly I'm not sure how she managed to stay in her chair. She is a vision—an oasis—a pond of fresh water after two days in the desert without. These thoughts are swirling when I realize I need to say something.

"Uh" I start off weakly.

"Swarek needs this analyzed" I shove the sample into her grasp much quicker and harder than I had intended.

She looks into my eyes and I wonder what she sees there. In hers I see one thing unmistakably—concern. Perhaps a mix of loneliness swims there, too. She averts her eyes and says my name so lightly I almost believe I've merely imagined it.

"Gail…"

The sound of her voice breaks me. I've missed the cadence. I've missed everything about it. I inhale sharply. I have to get the hell out of here.

"I'll be back for the results later" I say firmly before turning on my heels and storming out of her lab.

As I walk away from her lab I consider how the dichotomy of love baffles me. How could something that was supposed to be the best part of the life have such a capacity for devastation and ruin when it went awry? I had read of this vast change in books and had seen it in movies, of course. However, it was much different when I was the one experiencing both of the sides that love presented. One look at Holly had swelled my heart and crushed it at the same time. The sound of her voice sent butterflies fluttering throughout my stomach and nausea rising from its pit. The look in her eyes filled me with love and yet crushed my spirit. Witnessing the darker side of love made me appreciate the light so much more. Too bad the dark was all I had—all I deserved.

I glanced down at my watch and, based on the time, I knew Holly would have the results in. I steeled myself, reconstructed my walls, and made my way back to the morgue. I knock out my usual pattern softly but do not wait for her to invite me in.

"The results?" I say quickly.

She closes her eyes for a brief moment and opens them as she hastily composes her face.

"Oh r-right."

The composure doesn't reach her voice—she sounds uncertain and childish. To my ears she barely sounds like Holly at all. Uncertainty did not befit Holly. She was a rock.

She rifles through a stack of papers and pulls out my results. She thrusts them at me. My eyes dart over them briefly. I discern their meaning rapidly—Holly has taught me well. I turn to leave the lab before I can say anything meaningful to her.

"I'll get these to Swarek right away" I mumble.

I hear her release a puff of air as if she wants to say something and I hesitate slightly but no words are forthcoming from her lips. A rage suddenly swells within me. She can't even bother to say more than two words to me? She can't be brave enough to say more? Instead she just lets her thoughts dissipate on the exhaled breath.

"Why did you do it, Holly?" I hear myself say with fury lacing my voice.

I can see the gears in her mind cranking. She'll have to reply to me now. She can't ignore my question. Or at least she wouldn't, if she at least had an ounce of decency left within her.

"Y-you were about to leave me again, Gail. I know the signs. I've seen them enough."

Her words hurt, but I had earned them. The pain in her voice served as a tourniquet to my rage. I felt it slowly being choked from within in me. I steady my mind and, thus, my voice before replying. I refuse to show her weakness.

"So your answer was to just give up and leave me for good?"

I can tell my words hurt her—just as I intended. Her eyes soften and her shoulders slump. She bites her lip, weighing her words heavily.

"No, not for good. Never for good. I thought maybe if I left before you had the chance to leave me you would realize I couldn't keep playing these games with you. I know I handled this immaturely, but, at the time, it seemed like the best course of action. I thought, maybe, you'd realize how much you missed me if you thought that you couldn't run back with a few uttered words and have all be forgiven. It was stupid. I was stupid. It was the hardest thing I've ever done and the thing I regret the most," her words are choked with pain.

Hearing the pain in her voice as she uttered those words tore open a precariously stitched wound. Then shock takes over as I recall she called my vulnerabilities "games" and the anger returns. I was thankful because of it and breathe it in with relish.

"You're right. You were incredibly stupid" I say and walk out of her lab.

Upon exiting the morgue I immediately regret my words. Holly was far from stupid—she was brilliant. She was beautiful, she was radiant, she was amazing and I am a goddamn fool. I am a fool because she crushed herself in order to fix our relationship. She went against everything she believed in to make me see the error of my ways. She allowed me to hate her, to believe she was weak, to think that her anchor dredged the sea and released me. It was the exact opposite, she was being my mountain, she was anchoring me in a new harbor away from my vulnerabilities. She was showing me she loved me and she would do whatever it took to prove to me that she would always be my rock.

"I am such a fucking idiot," I whisper to myself.

I race to her apartment building and run up the stairs with abandon. I knock my usual pattern on her door and wait for her to answer. She opens the door and I can tell she is tipsy. The planes of her face have softened and her eyes are unfocused. Her hair is tousled and her clothes are mildly disheveled. She looks so gorgeous I can barely look at her. I run my tongue over my bottom lip nervously following my tongue with teeth as I bite into my bottom lip.

"Are you planning on inviting me in or do you plan to leave me out here for the rest of the evening while you stare at me like I'm dessert?"

She laughs softly at my quip—but I think that is mostly the alcohol.

"Yes, please come…"

She looks so beautiful I can't stop myself. I walk through her doorway and grab her belt loop and pull her into me. My lips crash into hers like a rogue wave in a perfect storm. After all, that is what we are together—a perfect storm. My mind floods with the words I have to say to her and I know that I must break the kiss to free them. I do so reluctantly. I take a moment to formulate my thoughts into a coherent manner that will make sense when they flow from my mouth.

"You may be a fucking idiot, Holly, but you're my idiot. And maybe I'm an idiot, too. Maybe our immature reactions to such situations are what draw us to one another. I don't know. I don't know much of anything right now except that I can't wake up another morning without you. I fucking hate it. I can't wake up another morning trying to convince myself that I hate you because I don't. I love you so goddamn much. If you wanted me to realize how shitty my life would be without you, you get a gold star."

She scrunches her eye brown and purses her lips as she contemplates my words.

"I didn't want to make you miserable."

"Yes you did" I say a bit harshly and I can see the slap reverberate on her face. I quench my rage and continue softly.

"Yes you did and I deserved it. I deserved it. I had no right to leave you a repeatedly. That's where I was an idiot, Holly. You do deserve better and I am going to be better because I can't wake up another morning without you. Do you hear me? Never again."

Her eyes pool with tears that she doesn't allow to fall down her face. She pulls you to her and her voice comes out barely in a whisper.

"I…I hear you."

The melody in her voice and the beauty in her face are more than I can bear. I need her and I need her now.

My voice husky I say,

"Now, you're going to take me to bed. And we're not leaving it until the weekend is over. I have six weeks to make up for."

I wink at her and walk slowly down the hallway to her bedroom. Seeing Holly in all her glory will be worth every bit of pain I've felt for the last six weeks. I am happy to be on the light side of love again because this side is far more beautiful. This side has Holly beside me. I smile as I notice that she moves to follow me down the hallway.

This woman is fucking amazing.

_Made off_   
_Don't stray_   
_My kind's your kind_   
_I'll stay the same_   
_Pack up_   
_Don't stray_   
_Oh, say say say_   
_Oh, say say say_   
_Wait! They don't love you like I love you._   
_Wait! They don't love you like I love you._


End file.
